


the mortifying ordeal of being known

by bby_types_words



Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Bottom Dysphoria, Dysphoria, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Chuck Taylor, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28334988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bby_types_words/pseuds/bby_types_words
Summary: He never pushed like this, and Chuck felt so sorry for him. He just shook his head, apologetic and embarrassed. He and Orange weren’t nearly as wasted as they usually were when they started fooling around, but he might as well have been sober now for how serious the mood had become.(it's sweet, it's tender,chuck is transgender)
Relationships: Orange Cassidy/Chuck Taylor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	the mortifying ordeal of being known

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I wrote a trans Chuck fic. Don't like that? Read anyway, who cares? Leave a comment and waste both of our time. 
> 
> TW for bottom dysphoria.

It wasn’t an issue for him often. In fact, it rarely crossed Chuck’s mind really. He barely thought about the difference between himself and the dudes around him. He’d been presenting masculine for most of his life, it really didn’t matter much that he was trans. He was lucky, his parents listened when he was a kid, and helped him figure out what he really meant when he said he was mad about being born a girl. Reached out to the only expert in the county who had an explanation for what his deal was, and what to do about it. His whole family had been relatively cool about it, in spite of what their rural Kentucky neighbors thought, and eventually they came around too. For a backwoods country community, Chuck never ran into much trouble. Maybe it was because he’d been out since he was a kid, everyone around him got used to it. He never even really had to deal with his chest looking weird, his mom somehow managed to get him on puberty blockers before that would’ve been an issue. Drove him two hours to the nearest Planned Parenthood, applied for free medical aid and got it because they were poor and he had the formal diagnosis, which in retrospect was a weird requirement. Being diagnosed with ‘dude’ was kind of an uncomfortable way of looking at it. But it got him the shit he needed to have an easy childhood, all things considered. A lot easier than it could have been. Getting on T when the cis boys his age were hitting puberty, ending up looking just as manly as his brother, all in all he felt he grew up pretty normal. And as an adult, he passed so well it really never came up. 

He wasn’t ashamed of it per say. It just wasn’t anyone’s business, and he didn’t really trust those around him to be cool all the time. Sure, now there are openly trans wrestlers. But it wasn’t like that when Chuck started, and he still doesn’t have the most optimistic perspective of the industry. Plus, he took a bit of satisfaction in how well he fit in. Nobody knew. He had a whole show about talking dicks and he didn’t even have one, and nobody knew something was off. It’s funny, his tendency to overcompensate on dicktalk rubbing off on all the cis dudes around him as a funny joke they all do together. It was perfect, it was easy, for Chuck to blend in with a bunch of weird guys who didn’t even notice he was weird about being a guy. They were all just guys, just those guys who talk about their totally existent dicks all the time. And Trent was so goddamn weird in every respect, it really took the attention off of Chuck. He was fully under the radar, which was exactly where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. 

Of course, Trent found out eventually. You could only share a room with a guy so many times before you accidentally see something. In the moment that had been Chuck’s nightmare made reality, like he’d been caught in a lie that would change everything. But then Trent made it weird in a way Chuck hadn’t expected. “A true gentleman is dickless.” he soon tweeted, which was supposed to be his weird way of showing support but actually just made Chuck freak the hell out. Gentleman was in his moniker. He’s Trent’s best friend and tag partner, and he brands himself as the Kentucky Gentleman, the tweet was so obviously about him. At the time it didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be positive. It just felt like a callout. It wasn’t, obviously. It was a bit of ribbing ultimately supposed to be on Chuck’s side, like a joke only the two of them were in on and an inane tweet to everyone else. But ever since Chuck had been real on-edge about his friends finding out. Not that he held a grudge against Trent, he just hated every way he’s ever brought the matter up. Sometimes he would try to be serious, in drunk and awkward conversations about how he’s alright with Chuck and still thinks he’s tough and manly. Trent was just about the worst guy who could have found out, honestly, only because of how socially awkward he was. Chuck just wished he’d call him a slur, instead of trying to be this weird cringy ally or something. He’s tried telling Trent it’s just not  _ like that _ for him. He passes, he likes the way he looks, and he doesn’t have to deal with any problems at shows because nobody knows. He doesn’t need support, because everything’s just alright for him. 

But there was one situation where it did pose an issue. And it seemed to be upon Chuck once again, as Orange climbed into his lap. They were sharing a motel room, sharing a bed, drinking away the shared embarrassment of a particularly shitty match they’d lost. Things were getting ugly, it’s happened before and Chuck always let Orange down. Got him off, mostly with his hand, and kept his own pants on the entire time. This was a tough one, he had a good time with what they did but he didn’t have what Orange wanted. Couldn’t give it to him, had to swat drunk grabby hands away and make an excuse. Orange would pout up at him, saying he feels bad about not getting Chuck off. Chuck would give him a line about how he’s all good, lie and say he came in his pants or he’s too drunk to get it up. 

But there Orange was, half hard in his pants and kissing Chuck while grinding on his packer which wasn’t getting any bigger because it’s silicone. If he really still fucking thinks thats a real dick, he’s gotta think Chuck’s got erectile dysfunction at this point. Chuck tried to push his hips away, lay Orange down and take care of things with a little more space between them like usual. But God, Orange just gave him this look, like he was begging Chuck to let him do this. His hands were still around Orange’s hips, holding him firm a few inches back from his lack of junk. But then Orange was reaching for Chuck’s waistband, like he was gonna really commit himself to getting off Chuck’s hypothetically limp dick, and Chuck stopped him just an inch away with a solid grip around his wrist. 

He couldn’t bring himself to address this. Couldn’t explain what his fucking problem was. He just wanted to take care of Orange the best he could and go to sleep. 

“Dude, what’s wrong?” He almost sounded hurt. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then why can’t I touch you?” 

Damn, he really didn’t know. Orange really didn’t have a clue what Chuck’s situation was. 

“Orange,” Chuck started. He just wanted to kiss that worried look off his face and get back into it. But he couldn’t do that, not with how upset Orange was about this, and he really didn’t know what to say. “It’s… it’s complicated okay?” 

“Is it like a... body image thing?” 

“No. Well, sorta. I guess. But you wouldn’t like it either.” 

“I don’t care what it looks like. You’re hot, and I want to get you off.” Orange tried again to touch him, but Chuck’s grip was still solid, holding his hand back. “We could turn the light off, if you don’t want to see it.” Orange was being gentle, trying to comfort Chuck on his small or ugly imaginary dick. He never pushed like this, and Chuck felt so sorry for him. He just shook his head, apologetic and embarrassed. He and Orange weren’t nearly as wasted as they usually were when they started fooling around, but he might as well have been sober now for how serious the mood had become. 

“Alright.” Orange yielded at last, climbing off of him. He was still visibly hard in his pants, but he moved to settle into his side of the bed. “Sorry for pushing.” 

“I’ll still take care of you though,” Chuck offered. He hated to see Orange resigning to going to bed with a boner. 

“Nah.” Orange grumbled. “Feels weird when I can’t return the favor.” 

“Wait, so you don’t want to do  _ anything? _ ” 

“Nope.” 

“Like, ever again?” 

“Nah.”

“Why the hell not?” He was getting heated. He didn’t want to stop doing what he and Orange did just because he couldn’t do more. That was stupid. “You always like it when I jack you off. I don’t need to whip it out for that.” 

“Dude.” 

“Or I could blow you.” 

“I want to blow you.” Orange retorted. “And I don’t want you touching me if I can’t do it back. It’s weird for it to be one sided... I just want to make you cum for once.” 

“Well, you can’t.” 

“Only because you won’t let me.” 

“No, I mean you physically can’t.” Ugh, shit was escalating, Chuck already said more than he ever meant to. 

“Why? What, does your dick not work?” Chuck could tell that even though he was annoyed, he was genuinely curious about what was wrong with Chuck’s dick. 

So, he reached into his sweats and pulled it out. As in, pulled his packer out of the front of his boxers and showed it to Orange. “Yeah, see?” 

“Wait,” he looked down at the detached prosthetic, reasonably bewildered, “What the fuck?” 

Ahh shit. Well, now Chuck made it weird. 

“What is that?” He reached for it, but Chuck pulled it away. It was a straight up fake dick. Realistic enough to pass when he used it at a urinal, there was an opening at the base end that funneled piss out the tip. It looked pretty believable in that context, as long as no creeps looked too hard. It’s job was mostly to be a fake bulge in the front of his pants all day, so he looked like he had a hog. 

“You always have that in there?” 

“Yeah.” He tossed it aside, letting it land on the disgusting motel floor because he needed it out of his hand immediately. “Uh, but not in the ring. Or at the gym. Cuz it’d probably fall out.” 

“So then what’s up with your, uh, real…” Orange trailed off, perhaps figuring out what was wrong with his real dick. 

“You’re gay, right?” Chuck asked, instead of answering that half-question. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Like  _ gay _ gay. Like not into women at all.” 

“Yeah, uh… why?” 

“Well, uh.” Chuck wasn’t about to say he was a woman. That’s not what he was getting at, and he knew Orange wouldn’t think like that either. “You won’t like what I’ve got.” 

And Orange was giving him the most puzzled look he’d ever seen on him. Like he was trying to figure out what the fuck Chuck was talking about. But it was obvious what he was getting at. Maybe Orange was just trying to reconcile this new information with Chuck’s appearance. Looking at his shitty incomplete scruffy beard in a new light maybe. Looking for any features that made what Chuck was saying make sense. Anything recognizably… off, maybe. 

“You’re saying you’re— you don’t have uh... a dick?” 

Chuck just shook his head. 

“So… You’re transgender?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Sorry.” 

“No, dude. Don’t be sorry.” His expression softened. Chuck wanted this conversation to be over but he felt like he owed Orange some kind of explanation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never came up.” Not fully a lie. No one ever asked if he was cis. 

“You know I don’t care, right?” 

“Uh, thanks.” 

“Like, this changes nothing for us.”

“I… uh. Good. Cool.” 

“So, could I...” Orange took a moment before settling on the words “do it?” 

“What?” 

“You know. Get you off.” He sounded so nervous now, like he was worried Chuck would be offended.

But Chuck was just confused, “You… you still want to?” 

“I told you I don’t care.” 

“You don’t have to.” Chuck assured him. “I can get you off and handle myself.” 

“I want to.” He punctuated that with a very tentative hand on Chuck’s thigh. “If... you’re comfortable with that.” 

He couldn’t look Orange in the eyes, so he kept his gaze on that hand. “Dude, how are  _ you _ comfortable with that?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You just said you’re gay.”

“Yeah, I’m into guys, Chuck. Not just dicks, like. The whole dude.” He said it, plain and sweet, like it was that simple. “I’ll figure it out.” 

“You sure?” Chuck literally couldn’t understand how Orange was still interested. He didn’t have what he wanted, Chuck figured Orange would be frustrated or let down by this reveal. But he was still acting the exact same, he still wanted Chuck, like it really didn’t matter. How could it not matter? 

“Please, Chuck. You’ve done it for me so many times, I want to take care of you.” There was a startling sincerity to the way he said it. “I want to get you off so bad.” 

It wasn’t always an issue for Chuck. Hooking up with strangers, he’d be able to tell them he was trans no problem. They’d be varying degrees of alright with it, some a little  _ too _ eager honestly. Some would turn him down, and Chuck was able to let it roll off his back like any other reason for rejecting him. Everyone he dated had been cool with it, he let them know right off the bat what sex would be like. It was so easy for him to be open when he didn’t give a shit about them. Like, he had nothing to lose if they took issue with his body and rejected him. Fuck it, fuck them, Chuck really never cared. But with Orange it was just… different. He’d known him too long, he already cared about him too much. It was weird, it was hard to show Orange that part of him. 

But he was asking. He wanted to. Chuck had told him his weird little secret and he was fine with it, that didn’t turn Orange off from him. He was still sitting beside him, hand right on his leg where he had so carefully placed it, and he was looking up at him. All soft and sweet and gentle, letting the rusted gears in Chuck’s brain slowly process Orange’s words. Chuck could barely meet his gaze, it was overwhelming, Orange was too good for him. 

“Alright,” he eventually breathed out, like it was the hardest decision he’d ever made. It really shouldn’t have been, he wished he wasn’t so damn hesitant to let Orange see him. He was just so nervous, it felt like such a big deal. Like he was subjecting Orange to something bad, even though it was just… him. He was still fully clothed but he already felt naked, like he just laid bare every inch of himself to be seen in a way he never had before. Which was stupid and overdramatic because it shouldn’t be a big deal, Orange said it didn’t matter, Chuck could go fuck a stranger right now and feel none of this stress. But Orange was the best thing in Chuck’s life, and it felt like a fucking sin to expose him to the worst thing in it. 

But then Orange was pulling him down into a kiss again, soft and slow. Nothing like the hot and sloppy makeouts they’d usually have. He kissed back just as slow, and it slowed everything down in Chuck’s head. He hadn’t even noticed how stressed he was until then, the way his heart had been pounding out of his chest until Orange’s mouth on his had finally grounded him, bringing him out of panic mode. Kissing Orange was easy, familiar even though this tender kind of warmth wasn’t their usual style. Orange’s hand was on the back of his neck, just resting there and holding him close. Chuck’s fingers carded through Orange’s silky blond hair. It was easy. It was so easy. This part, anyway, was easy. 

Then Orange was moving back into Chuck’s lap. Again, it was familiar territory. Orange straddling him and… well this part was unfamiliar. There Orange’s boner was, right up on Chuck’s packer-less crotch. There was nothing there, nothing between him and Orange aside from a few thin layers of clothes.

He stopped for a second. “Can I--” Orange started. 

“Yeah, grind on me baby.” Chuck cut him off, forcing himself to answer before he lost his nerve. 

And, fuck. It was the first time he really got to feel the friction of Orange moving on him. Usually all Chuck got was the pressure of his packer pushing up against his clit while Orange did this, which was far from satisfying but felt great anyway because it was Orange. 

But now, “holy  _ shit. _ ” It came out in an absolutely obscene groan as soon as he started. Orange moved with long steady motions, and Chuck pushed up against him. One hand was on Orange’s hip, the other was gripping the sheets. “ _ Ah, fuck, Orange. _ ” He leaned his head back on the headboard, fingers digging into Orange’s hip. Fuck, the guy knew how to move. 

“Fucking  _ finally _ , I get to hear you moan.” Orange pressed a kiss to the side of Chuck’s neck, pushing down against him with a bit more force. 

Chuck grabbed Orange by the hair and pulled him up for another kiss, hot and needy. Orange’s lips parted for Chuck to push his tongue in, pulling the moan from Orange’s mouth while he moved against him. “You’re so good baby,” Chuck broke the kiss to say, “You feel so fucking good.” 

Orange slowed down, “I want to go down on you.” He pleaded. “Tell me how you like it and I’ll do it for you.” 

Chuck kissed him again, just for a moment to psych himself up to say “Do it baby, I want your mouth on me.” 

Orange beamed at him, leaning back in his lap to take his shirt off. Any other time, Chuck would stop and take some time to appreciate Orange’s insane physique. Get his hands and mouth all over those impossibly defined muscles, worship every inch of Orange’s perfect body. But right now, it was Orange’s turn to focus on Chuck. 

It was a weird feeling, with how much he hated his body. Letting Orange take his shirt off, run his hands down his chest, press a gentle kiss to the soft stomach Chuck hated so much while he settled between his legs. His hands hovered by the waistband of Chuck’s pants, fingers hooked under it, and he looked up at Chuck and waited for a moment, waited for Chuck’s go-ahead of a silent nod. Orange tugged his pants and boxers down, Chuck lifting his hips to let him. Orange pulled the pants the rest of the way down his legs and tossed them aside before looking down at Chuck for the first time. 

Well, there it was. Chuck’s enlarged clit was hard between his legs. He supposed Orange wouldn’t be too familiar with a normal clit anyway. “It’s uh… hormones make it grow a bit.” 

“Oh, cool,” Orange nodded, looking way too close at Chuck’s body. It was so unnerving, watching Orange’s gaze go from his crotch up his body and landing on his face. 

Chuck was comfortable with a casual hookup. He felt fine with everyone he’s dated before. But goddamn, none of them looked at him like that. Like Orange really loved his shitty body. His shitty face. His shitty… him. He stayed looking up at him as he pressed a kiss to his inner thigh, stubble grazing him and sending a shiver up his whole body. Chuck brought a hand to rest on the side of Orange’s head, fingers lacing through his hair instinctively, grounding himself with the touch. Orange was so beautiful like that, face flushed pink and eyes on Chuck, laying on his stomach between Chuck’s legs. Fuck, wait, hadn’t he been hard a minute ago? He was just ignoring his own boner, ghosting his lips up Chuck’s thigh.

He hovered, so close to Chuck’s crotch that he felt his breath on it. “Alright, so, what do I do here?” 

“Just… just stay up on my clit. Don’t like, finger me or anything.” It was surprisingly easy to say, for how long he lied about having a dick. His  _ clit _ . He just said that to Orange. And Orange was looking at it, he really saw  _ that much _ of him and wasn’t put off. Chuck never wanted to let Orange know, but here he was, saying it and letting Orange see it. As if it wasn’t even abnormal. God, Orange was that good to him. What the hell did Chuck do to deserve him? What did a guy like this see in him? 

Still looking up at him, Orange brought his mouth to Chuck’s clit at last. He kissed it with a hot, wet open mouth. Gentle, experimental, but  _ fuck _ , already so fucking good. He opened his mouth around Chuck, tongue lathing over his little dick. “Yeah, fuck, just like that,” he was so worked up already, it came out in a breathy moan. 

Orange quickly got a feel for it, mouthing over Chuck’s clit, sucking and running his tongue over it in broad smooth motions, a similar pace to how he grinded on Chuck earlier. Chuck ran his fingers through his hair, holding him close and guiding him to pick up the pace a little. Orange responded with a small moan against Chuck, moving faster and with more pressure. He sucked a bit harder, cheeks hollowing and head bobbing just a little, like… Hell, like he was blowing any other guy, drawing a deep “ _ Fuck _ ,” out of Chuck. “That’s fucking perfect, fuck, you’re so good to me.” His hips reflexively pushed him up into Orange’s mouth, and Orange made a sound like he liked that, liked the way Chuck moved up against him. Or maybe he liked the sounds he was getting out of Chuck, praise and profanities spilling out between moans as Orange worked, alternating between using his tongue and stopping to suck on him. “Shit, Orange, keep doing that. Feels so fucking good when you suck my dick.” And it wasn’t really the right wording but it’s what came out. 

Orange had his body propped up a bit with one arm, bracing next to Chuck on the mattress, while the other worked his own dick dry. He was getting off on the same pace he moved his mouth on Chuck, still looking up at him so weirdly tender. Fuck, fuck he hadn’t broken eye contact with Chuck since he started, and that felt weirdly close. Every bit of this was too close, way too open, but Chuck couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop himself from gripping Orange’s hair and rutting up against his open mouth. “I’m close baby, I’m so fucking close.” And he could tell Orange was too, the way he was flushed pink all the way down his back, pumping his own dick and groaning, hot and muffled by Chuck in his mouth. 

It felt so good, Orange being so into this. So into him, so into getting him off. Chuck couldn’t think, as Orange sucked him off and got him over the edge, all he could do was moan and melt into Orange, hips jerking as he came, fist gripping his hair so hard it had to hurt, but Orange didn’t stop. He worked Chuck through what had to be the best climax anyone has ever had, then kept tonguing him through the aftershocks, as Chuck muttered vaguely coherent praise. Orange came a few moments later, mouth still on Chuck as he shot off on the mattress. 

Orange finally pulled his mouth away, panting and looking up at Chuck. “C’mere.” Chuck said, gesturing for Orange to lay on his chest as he laid back. He wrapped his arms around him tight. 

“That was… good for you, right? That’s how you wanted me to do it?” 

“Yeah, dude. Obviously.” Chuck chuckled. It was weird that Orange was still looking for assurance after making Chuck cum his fucking brains out. “That was probably the best head I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, cool.” Orange sounded exhausted, reasonably so. He worked hard for Chuck. 

“You sounded like you… had a good time down there.” 

“I like giving head.” He said happily. “Glad you finally let me.” 

“Yeah…” suddenly it felt like… it never should have been an issue. Like he always should have known Orange wouldn’t care. 

It was almost like… like Orange really liked him or something. 

But that was a weird thought, so instead he said “Well, you can do it again whenever.” 

“Promise?” It was mostly a snarky tone, but still Chuck answered. 

“Yeah dude, promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to the catpiss gang and leo for being very patient with me while i learned how to write. 
> 
> and of course shout out to [my fellow trans folks.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d7f992d676e97ccacd4d50777bff6b4a/2aa2295b2b6afca6-89/s1280x1920/392df483bc4ba2dabd2f8d294fe72fe068f2e527.png)


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